


Your Venom in Me

by coricomile



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hair-pulling, Intergluteal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every bar has started to look the same. Same drink specials, same music, same dresses on the same pretty girls. Sid's been living through them for a decade, another game ritual that he doesn't particularly enjoy but needs to be present for. The cast of teammates has changed, evolved, but the drinks and the stories and the smear of black and yellow have all stayed the same. He smiles at Olli, barely legal to drink in the states, and misses Duper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Venom in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> Heeroluva, thank you for your detailed prompts. My only regret is not being able to write more of them. Hope you enjoy!

Every bar has started to look the same. Same drink specials, same music, same dresses on the same pretty girls. Sid's been living through them for a decade, another game ritual that he doesn't particularly enjoy but needs to be present for. The cast of teammates has changed, evolved, but the drinks and the stories and the smear of black and yellow have all stayed the same. He smiles at Olli, barely legal to drink in the states, and misses Duper. 

They're high off their win, skin buzzing and voices too loud to be heard over the Top 40 playing on the speakers. Sid's glad they stopped going to clubs. The music here isn't much better, but the beer is better and the endless stretch of bodies aren't pressed so close together, and the dim, steady lighting will always be better than the flash of strobes. He's not even thirty yet, but he feels so old sometimes. 

Beside him, Geno's nursing a local brew, nose scrunching every time he takes a drink. He's not supposed to be with the team on the road, his left wrist hidden under the black straps of an air cast, but he'd refused to stay at home for the Flyers game. Sid feels him like an extra limb, aware of him like he is on the ice. Geno is there, is the same as everything else is the _same_ , but it's- it's good. Geno's always good.

"We win," Geno says when Sid pokes at his empty. Sid's tipsy and could stand at least another three beers if he wants to get actually drunk, but he can't make himself go to the bar to order another one. "So why you look so sad?"

Geno's not yelling over the music. Instead, he's leaning down, mouth close to Sid's ear. His nose brushes against Sid's temple when he pulls back to watch Sid's mouth for his answer. Sid shrugs, his shoulder bumping into Geno's chest. Either the room's gotten warmer or the booze has started to really sink in. 

"Do you ever," Sid starts, eyes darting to the bright faces of his team. Flower hadn't even come out, choosing to stay back with Vero and the kids. They always came out for close games, and Sid can't blame him for choosing them over the team. "Do you ever get tired of everything?"

"Of what?" Geno asks. Sid stares at the cast and tries to imagine the cracks in the bone underneath. Geno's been out a lot this year. When he's on the ice he's still the powerhouse he's always been, but he's- he seems more fragile somehow. He's a magnet for trouble, a beacon for injuries, and Sid's so tired of seeing him hurt. 

"Of everything being the same. Of-" Sid shrugs. He should be celebrating. They won. They killed the fucking Flyers and they knocked the Islanders down a spot and he still loves hockey like he's never loved anything else, but… he's so damn tired. "I don't know. Forget it."

"Sid," Schultzy calls, holding up his own empty and gesturing to the table. He's starting to fit in with the team, the anxiety of the trade not quite as heavy over his head. Sid doesn't know what he'd do if he were traded. It's not likely. He started as a Penguin, and he'll probably die as a Penguin, but maybe Schultzy had felt that way about the Oilers. Sid nods and watches him as he heads to the bar.

There's something restless just under Sid's skin. He can't stop jittering his leg, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle. He's used to the pent up energy after a good game, but this feels like something else. He's dangling on the edge of something he can't name, can't figure out, and being in the bar isn't helping. Geno's hand lands high on his thigh, pressing it down and Sid jumps, the bottle rolling across the table to land in Horny's lap. 

Geno's eyes are warm and worried, which is stupid. He's the one out on IR _again_. Even if they keep doing well, even if they get to the playoffs, Geno might not be able to play. It's bullshit. Sid shakes his head and pushes himself up from the table. 

"I'm gonna-" He waves off the rest of it. He doesn't really know what he's going to do, but he needs to be away from Geno and the team. When he's hit the other side of the bar, he's made up his mind. He has to get rid of the restlessness, and if he can't get back on the ice, he'll have to do it another way. 

Sid knows how to pick up. He doesn't do it often, not really, but he knows what he looks like and he knows what his name means, even here in the home territory of his enemies. He sets up at the edge of the bar, standing just far enough away so that his arms won't touch the sticky-wet surface of it. 

It doesn't take long for a girl in a sequin top and tight jeans to slide into the spot next to him. She's pretty, all long blonde hair and bright eyeshadow and pale pink lipstick. It doesn't hurt that there's no ping of recognition when he introduces himself to her. He feels less like he's taking advantage this way. 

Her name is Tessa, and that's about the only thing he really learns about her besides her drink order. She's straightforward, clearly in it for the same reason Sid is. She leans in close to talk, her breasts brushing Sid's arm and her hair tickling against his jaw. He stands almost a full head taller than her, and when he puts his hand on her lower back it spans nearly the whole thing. 

"You maybe want to get out of here?" Tessa asks when she's finished her sloe gin fizz. It's left her generous mouth shiny, a pale line of bare skin exposed in the middle of her lower lip where the straw pressed. Sid smiles and nods. The buzz of energy hasn't left him, hasn't cooled down any. He hopes he can leave it behind with her. 

"Meet you at the door?" He asks. Tessa nods and brushes a kiss over his mouth, rolling onto her toes to reach. She tastes like spearmint and bitters. 

He watches the smooth sway of her hips and nods. He always feels shitty after hookups, always feels like he's letting the other person down by not being whatever they expect him to be, but he's going to claw through his own skin if he can't find a way to just calm the fuck down. 

"Get it," Rusty whoops when Sid gets back to the table. He thumps Sid on the back too hard, flushed with the shots he'd been doing with Olli. Olli looks vaguely sick. Sid should stay, should feed him water and make sure he gets back to the hotel okay, but he just pats the kid's shoulder and leans over the table for his jacket. 

Geno's sitting on it. Sid yanks but Geno doesn't budge. He looks pissed, his mouth drawn into a tight line, eyes hard. Sid jerks on the sleeve of his jacket again, glancing back over his shoulder toward the door. He can just barely see the silver sparkle of Tessa's shirt through the crowd. 

"Geno," Sid says. Schultzy shifts awkwardly in his seat. The beer he'd brought back for Sid is sitting untouched next to Geno's bad hand. " _Geno_." Geno stands so abruptly that only Rusty's hand on Sid's back keeps him from toppling over. 

"Come," Geno says, grabbing Sid's arm with his right hand. It hurts, Geno's fingertips sinking in through Sid's thin shirt. Geno drags him a few steps before Sid gets it together enough to struggle. 

"Can whatever it is wait until tomorrow?" Sid looks back over his shoulder, Tessa barely visible anymore. Geno's taking him towards the men's room, his left arm cradled near his chest to keep the cast from banging into anyone. "Geno, let me go."

He's almost free, the meaty part of his thumb sliding into the sweat-damp hollow of Geno's palm, and then the bright light of the bathroom is blinding him. Geno shoves him inside, turning to lock the door while Sid gets his feet back under him. 

"What the hell?" Sid rubs at his raw wrist. He'd dropped his jacket somewhere along the way. He winces as he thinks about how filthy it's going to be if he manages to find it. In the new light, Geno doesn't look upset. He looks _furious_. "Geno?"

"You say, ever get tired?" Geno takes a step closer, drawing himself up to his full height. The air cast looks so dark on his washed out skin. "You say, forget." Another step. Sid can smell the sharpness of Geno's cologne, the same stuff he's been wearing since he was a rookie. 

"I'm just-" Sid backs away when Geno closes the small gap between them. It puts his back to the wall, trapping him. 

"You say, ever get tired of same and then go pick up first girl you see?" Geno curls his right hand into Sid's shirt and pushes. Sid lifts his hands to shove back, but the sight of the cast makes him stop. "Sidney Crosby tired of _same_?"

"Geno, we can talk about this later," he says. The buzz keeps on growing, shivering up his spine. He thinks about fight or flight or fuck, instinct so deep inside bones that it can't be ignored. Geno's knuckles dig into his sternum. "If I don't-"

"Maybe I tired of same, too," Geno says, cutting him off. He leans in, the sweet smell of hops heavy on his breath, and Sid has a moment to wonder what's going on before Geno's mouth is on his. 

It's- it's weird. Geno's _team_ and _friend_ and _steady_. But the restlessness has exploded across Sid's body, all his anxiety and tension boiled down to the press of their lips. Geno bites at his mouth, his hand moving up to cup the back of Sid's head. 

Sid grabs at Geno's waist, pulling him in until they're pressed flush together. He feels small, bracketed in by Geno's bulk, but it's safe there. Geno's _team_ and _friend_ , but he's also _safe_ and _home_. Geno's fingers twist until they're tangled up in Sid's hair, tugging back until Sid's head thumps against the wall, Geno's knuckles taking the brunt of the impact. 

"I wait," Geno says, his fingers tightening in Sid's hair. It hurts, pain echoing down through Sid's scalp and making his eyes water, but Sid pushes into it. He feels _alive_ , aware of everything from the musk of Geno's cologne to the tiles digging into his back. Everything is sharp like it is on the ice, perfectly crystal clear. "I wait and think maybe Sid come to me. I _wait_ for _years_ and when you say ever be tired I think you finally know."

"I didn't-"

"But then you try leave with girl, and I done, Sid," Geno says. His eyes are so dark, so focused in on Sid that it's terrifying. He shakes Sid's head, the sound of his knuckles scraping the wall impossibly loud. "I _done_." He starts to back away. Sid scrambles, wincing as his hand smacks into Geno's cast. He grabs hold of Geno's hips and wraps his fingers around the thick leather of Geno's belt. 

"No," he says. His voice is high, desperate, but Geno doesn't move away. "I didn't know. I would have- I would have come to you if I knew." Geno just stares at him, his cheeks flushed and his lips a little red. Sid's seen Geno come back from hookups, seen him with lipstick smeared on his collar, but he's never seen him look so devastated. "Please."

There's a moment where Sid thinks Geno's going to leave, that he really is done, but then Geno kisses him again. It's messy and hot, Geno's chapped lips catching against his, his tongue sliding wet and lewd against Sid's. Every time Sid tries to move forward, Geno tightens his fingers in Sid's hair, holding him in place. 

He can feel the hard line of Geno's cock against his hip, hot and heavy. He wants to drop to his knees, get his mouth around him. Wants Geno to keep pulling his hair. Wants Geno to _use_ him and steal away the maddening buzz that's clouding every thought. He gasps against Geno's mouth, pulling away to suck in a breath. Geno's mouth trails down over his jaw, down past his adam's apple. He bites at it, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting. When he sucks on the patch of skin just under Sid's collar, Sid whines.

He jerks the hem of Geno's t-shirt, getting a hand up under the soft cotton. The shape of Geno's body is familiar, the smooth patches of scar and the cut of muscle already burned into the back of Sid's mind. Sid curls his hand around to the small of Geno's back. It's a bit damp with sweat, slick against Sid's palm. He digs his nails in as Geno's teeth latch onto the tender space below Sid's jaw. 

"Fuck." Sid groans, fumbling between them for the buckle of Geno's belt. He feels like he's vibrating, every inch of him so tuned into Geno that his skin aches. The heel of his palm slides over the head of Geno's cock and he spends a moment just groping Geno through his jeans, learning the shape of him hard and fuck-ready.

"Tease," Geno says against Sid's throat. He shoves his hips forward, rubbing off against Sid's hand shamelessly. Music from the bar leaks in through the door, the rumble of bass chasing the rabbit-quick beat of Sid's heart. 

Geno bullies Sid closer to the wall, knocking Sid's hand away and shoving his thigh between Sid's. Sid twitches against him, his cock jerking in his jeans. They shouldn't be doing this here, Sid knows that, but all he can think about the hot warmth of Geno's mouth finally back on his and the solid pressure of Geno's thigh. 

Geno's hand slides from Sid's hair down over his arm, the sound of his bitten nails scraping over cotton cutting through the music. He grabs Sid's ass, yanking him forward and pushing him back in staccato thrusts that steal Sid's breath. His eyes are fever bright, lips parted and cheeks gone pink. 

"Want to fuck you," Geno says, palming Sid's ass. Sid groans. He wants that, too, wants to feel Geno stretching him open, wants Geno to fuck him into the wall. "Jerk off thinking of getting cock into you." Sid bites down on his tongue as he imagines Geno in his own oversized bed, hand around his cock, pretending it was Sid's ass. 

"God, yes," Sid chokes out. Geno rewards him with another messy, dirty kiss. His mouth feels hot and swollen, tender, but he clings to Geno anyway, trying to draw him closer. 

"Can't here," Geno says against his mouth. Sid whines high in his throat. He feels like he's going to shake apart. "But do this instead." 

In a quick move that Sid's fuzzy brain can't catch up with, Geno swings him around, pressing him chest first into the wall. He plasters himself to Sid's back, heavy and so big, and sucks another kiss into the back of Sid's neck. He can't get Sid's jeans undone one-handed, his noises becoming steadily more frustrated until Sid bats him away and does it himself. 

Sid nearly goes into the wall when Geno yanks his jeans down, rough and unapologetic, leaving them just under the swell of his ass. He folds his arms against the tiles and presses his forehead to them, drawing in short, uneven breaths. His hands clench and unclench, his nails catching on the tiles. He wants to get them back on Geno's skin, but Geno's manhandling him, kicking his legs open as wide as his jeans will allow, and Sid's willing to take whatever Geno gives him. 

"Be quiet," Geno says. There's a shuffle of sound and then he's kneeling, the straps of his cast scraping over Sid's back as he pushes Sid's shirt up. He sinks his teeth into the meat of Sid's ass, there and gone again too quickly for Sid to register anything but the sting. 

Sid's thighs shake in anticipation. He swears when Geno smacks him, right over the spot he'd bitten, and again when Geno repeats the action on the other side. Geno reaches up and tugs on Sid's right arm until Sid lifts up to free it. There's an awkward bumping of wrist and elbows, Geno sucking in a sharp breath as his cast is jostled, and Sid feels small and filthy when Geno makes him help to hold himself open. 

Geno kisses his hand, the soft skin of Sid's inner thighs. His thumb slides down Sid's crack, sinking in and pulling until Sid's completely and totally exposed. He blows a warm breath over Sid's sensitive skin and makes a low sound when Sid groans. 

Sid bites down on his wrist at the first touch of Geno's tongue to his hole. It's wet and slick and hot, leaves him squirming a bit until Geno hits him again. Geno's just as rough here, just as demanding as he always is, fucking the broad point of his tongue in until Sid can't think of anything at all. 

Sid's dick aches, hanging heavy between his thighs. He needs to get a hand on it, needs to do something to relieve the pressure building in his balls, but he's already too loud, groans leaking past the gag of teeth and skin. He wishes they were at home, somewhere with a bed and soundproofed walls and no time limit. Geno spits, the sound so _loud_ over everything else. It should be disgusting, it kind of is, but it makes Sid keen anyway. He's going to have a bruise right there on his wrist in the shape of his mouth, visible proof left over to remember.

"Fuck," Geno says, low and dark. He stands back up, leaning his heavy body against Sid's. Sid cranes his neck, pain flaring as his teeth release their grip, and kisses what he can reach of Geno's face. He gets a sharp corner of jaw, the damp corner of lip, the sweaty, salty catch of throat. 

"Geno," he says. He doesn't have other words. He can't think. "Geno." Geno shushes him, his right hand bumping against Sid's hip as he undoes his fly. He groans, resting his forehead against the strung tight line of Sid's shoulders.

"Want to fuck you so bad," Geno says. Sid startles at the feel of Geno's cock against the small of his back. It's damp at the tip, long and hot like a brand. "Dream of you riding cock." 

"Fuck." Sid squirms. He's still got one hand on his own ass, still holding himself open. If he moved just right, if he tipped up just a little and pushed back, he'd have Geno inside him. Like he's reading Sid's mind, Geno settles his cock between Sid's ass cheeks. He wraps his left arm around Sid's stomach and pulls. 

Geno grinds his hips against Sid's. His jeans scrape against the backs of Sid's thighs, the sharp edge of the zipper catching against the fine hair there. Sid swears, jerking back against Geno's cock. He's so hot. Geno's everywhere, holding him down and panting against Sid's throat. 

Sid whines, he can't help it. The sound rises from the back of his throat, ripped from him unwillingly. The soles of his shoes slip against the floor as he chases the friction. Every short thrust of Geno's hips drag his cock over Sid's hole. He's so wet, so damp from sweat and spit. It sounds filthy, feels filthy. 

Sid's own cock swings between his legs, begging to be touched. If he moves his arm from the wall, he's going to go into it. Geno's so heavy against him, his chest pressed tight to Sid's back. Sid turns to the side as much as he can, bracing his shoulder against the wall. 

"Geno, I've got to-" Sid gasps when Geno draws back for a longer thrust, the head of his cock catching the rim of Sid's hole. Fuck, he wants Geno to just slide in. "I need-"

"Shh," Geno says. The arm around Sid's stomach slides up, the velcro straps of the cast catching on the cotton of his shirt and pulling it up. Two fingers press against his mouth and slide in, hooked into the tender skin of Sid's cheek. Sid drools around them, sucking as best he can. 

When he manages to get his own arm out from under him, Geno's weight shoves him into to wall. His cheek presses into the cool tile, his head twisted too far to be comfortable, but he refuses to let Geno's fingers leave his mouth. He slides his tongue over the salty hot skin, pressing out far enough that it touches the edge of the cast. It tastes like cotton and beer, rough and hard at the edges. 

Getting his hand on his cock is like being punched. He can't breathe, can't move except for the short jerks of his wrist. The sharp smell of sex is overwhelming, choking him. He gasps around Geno's fingers, head swimming. The buzzing has closed in around him, filling his head until everything narrows down to Geno's cock and the ache in his balls. 

Geno dips his thumb under his cock, pressing it against Sid's hole and in. He tugs at the rim, pulling him open. Sid tries to thrust back against it, tries to get him inside, but he can't move. He groans around Geno's fingers, the sound drawn out too loud when Geno presses them down against his tongue. 

"Gonna come soon," Geno says. His voice is choppy, words garbled. He gives another long thrust, the tip of his cock barely pressing into Sid's open hole. Sid bites down and jerks himself furiously. Everything seizes up, his hole clenching down on what it can and his balls drawing up. 

He bites down on Geno's fingers when he comes, body strung so tight that he feels like he's going to fly apart at the seams. It splashes against the walls and drips over his knuckles. He keeps tugging at his cock, shaking as another dribble of jizz forces its way out. 

Geno says something in thick Russian, crushing Sid to the wall and rutting against him harder. His fingers slide from Sid's mouth, wet where they land against Sid's jaw. Just as the world starts to go a little dark around the edges, Geno's hips stutter. He comes against Sid's ass, body stilling. Sid shivers as he feels it slide down the crack of his ass. He thinks, fleetingly, of Geno coming inside him, of carrying that little bit of Geno with him through his day, dirty and knowing. 

When Geno moves away, Sid's knees give out. He stumbles over his jeans as he goes down to the floor, his bare ass on the grimy tiles. It's disgusting, but he can't move. He gulps in breaths of new air, his lungs stinging as they're filled. Geno sinks onto his knees in front him, hands running carefully over Sid's shoulders and arms, soothing him. 

"Okay?" Geno asks. He wraps Sid up in his arms, pulling him in close and petting his hair. Sid feels disgusting, sticky from the waist down, the sweat at the small of his back already drying into a tacky mess that glues his shirt to him. He nods weakly against Geno's chest. They have to get out soon. They've already been in here suspiciously long and God only knows what Tessa is thinking if she hasn't already gone home with someone else. Sid hopes she has. 

"Yeah, G," he says. Geno keeps petting him, rocking him a little. It's so different than before, closer to the Geno Sid knows. Sid breathes him in. Already the high is fading, the noise of the bar coming back into focus."Can we- can we go home now?"

"Want me come with?" Geno asks. He sounds a little surprised. Sid's too exhausted to take it apart. He will in the morning when the bar's faded away and the melancholy has left him. Right now, all he wants is to go to bed and wrap himself around Geno until he falls asleep. He startles, accidentally knocking Geno's hand away. 

"You want to, right?" He doesn't know what to do if this was a one-time thing. It didn't seem like it, but nothing's been right tonight. Geno smiles, soft and fond, his mouth still a puffy red that hides nothing of what they did. 

"Yes." He helps Sid to his feet and brushes him down. He pulls Sid's boxers and jeans back up, tucking Sid's dick away carefully and shushing him when he hisses against the contact. He straightens Sid's clothes into something that could be called presentable before doing his own fly back up.. "I'm find coats, tell guys we leave. Scare off girl if she still around."

"Be nice to her," Sid says. Something warm settles in his chest at Geno's scowl. "I'm going home with you, right? Be nice to her." Geno rolls his eyes but nods, which counts as a win. He brushes a soft, dry kiss to Sid's temple before he slips out the door, music floating in for the second it's open. 

Sid splashes his face with water from the sink, trying to cool the redness of his skin. Everything's the same, nothing's really changed, but maybe- maybe this can be the new normal. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and follows Geno out into the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come hang out at my [tumblr](http://notyourlovesong.tumblr.com)


End file.
